A poem inspired by research into the establishment of the Bristol Gas Light Company and the changes it brought to the city.
‘The Coming of the Light’
In the beginning
We lived and died
We loved and lost
By the light and dark of seasons
In Spring - the lengthening days
In Summer - the sun’s sharp rays
In Autumn’s dull glow,tallow candles lit the work
And lit the way
In dead of Winter, the spark, the flame
Of small fires in the day.
We dyed the silk
We pressed the cloth
Our fingers broken
Our hands are smite
We dyed the silk
We pressed the cloth
Before the coming of the light
Come the light, we saw anew
The true colours of the cloth
The Flame Red, Burnt Sienna,
The Jade and Indigo
Came the light
We saw abright
In detail and in form
The filth and squalor of ourselves
Came the light
Thee and me
We saw ourselves
And each other
Came the light
Our trades, our names, our noble crafts
Illuminated all
One by one, year by year
Come the light, we saw us all
The Alchemists and Armourers
And the Borrellers of yarn
The Clothier and Culver
The Dykeymans long arm
The Eggler and Embosser
The Featherbeaters cough
The Gaunter, Graver, Gelder
The Hankyman, the Hoff.
Iron Founder, Jiggerman
The Knocker-Up at dawn
The Lattener and Luthier
The Millers of the corn
The Nedeller and the Nightman
The Owler in the night
The Pelterer and Pikeyman
The Quarrell Pickers blight
Rattoners, Reeders, Scutchers, Skelps,
Tosers, Toshers, Tripesmen
Ulnagers and Upholsterers
The Vintagers delight
The Weavers and the Wafters,
The Xylomans sharp smite
Every Yatman and Zincographer
Saw the coming of the light
Our trades, our names, our noble crafts
Illuminated all
One by one, year by year
Come the light, we saw us all
In the beginning
We lived and died
We loved and lost
By the light and dark of the seasons
In Spring - the lengthening days
In Summer - the suns sharp rays
In Autumn’s dull glow, waxy tallow candles lit the way
In dead of Winter, the spark, the flame
Of small fires in the day.